


count your blessings, you won't need them when you're gone

by dankscully



Category: Harlots (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, spoilers for the season 1 finale obviously!, there arent enough fics for amelia/violet so i'm here to change that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 12:21:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16264109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dankscully/pseuds/dankscully
Summary: set directly after the end of season 1. I just really wanted a scene with amelia telling violet what happened to her the night previously, when she volunteered as spartan bait for margaret. so I wrote it!





	count your blessings, you won't need them when you're gone

The second her mother was settled back into her chair in their room, Amelia made her excuses and hastily rushed downstairs. Violet was exactly where she’d left her minutes ago, leaning idly against the brick wall of an alleyway, watching her with half-lidded eyes like the cat who got the cream.

Amelia grasped Violet’s outstretched hand and allowed herself to be drawn in, the pair melting back into the shadowy recess of the dingy alley.

“Is there somewhere we can go?” Amelia asked, breathlessly.

Violet raised her eyebrows, a little smirk creeping onto her face. She leant closer, one hand snaking around Amelia’s waist. “Wondered when you’d ask that.”

“No,” Amelia began, glancing down at the wandering hand that was playing with the drab grey fabric of her dress, “Not like- I want to talk.” 

The smirk faded. 

“I’ve got a room at Nancy’s,” Violet replied, giving Amelia’s hand an understanding squeeze.

\-----

Violet put her shoulder to the door of Nancy’s house in Covent Garden and shoved it open. With a glance back to Amelia, she stepped over the threshold and peered up at the empty staircase. Silent as the grave.

“Got the place all to ourselves,” Violet remarked, turning to offer Amelia her hand.

Amelia stepped through the entrance after her, and hand-in-hand the pair quietly ascended the stairs to the first floor landing.

The house smelled of tobacco and sweat, a musky, heady mixture. Not unpleasant, necessarily. It was a world away from the room she shared with her mother - one that always seemed poisoned by the scent of Lydia Quigley's perfume, sickly sweet like rotten fruit.

Violet’s room was small and dishevelled. The bed was unmade and a pair of ripped stockings hung over the wooden frame. Violet snatched them up as she passed, tossing them aside.

“Sorry about the mess,” she apologised, “Betsey never cleans up after herself.”

Amelia’s face fell, and Violet realised her mistake immediately.

“It’s not like that,” Violet added, quickly, “Sharing a room is cheaper.”

Violet gracelessly flopped herself down on the bed, her legs sticking out over the side. She kicked off her shoes, which clattered noisily on the hardwood, and stretched her be-stockinged toes. Violet patted the mattress next to her, an invitation.

Amelia hesitated.

“I won’t bite,” Violet reassured her, sitting up on her elbows, “Unless you’d like me to.”

Amelia couldn’t help her smile, and she stepped forward. Violet reached a hand out and Amelia grasped it, allowing herself to be pulled down onto the lumpy mattress. Violet settled back against the pillows and nudged Amelia with her knee, a gentle prompt for her to talk.

Amelia took a deep breath.

“Yesterday I went to Justice Cunliffe to give evidence against Margaret Wells,” she began, tentatively.

Violet’s eyebrows shot up at that revelation. She sat suddenly forward, pinning Amelia with a stare. Amelia knew that Violet bore a grudge against Mrs. Wells for giving up Emily Lacey’s whereabouts, but she also knew there was something of pirates code amongst the women of Covent Garden. Going to the law was definitely a breach of that unspoken contract.

“I- Mrs. Quigley knows about us,” Amelia added hastily, dropping her gaze to the floor, “She was going to tell my mother.”

“Your ma already told you about her being a harlot, didn’t she?” Violet asked, her brow furrowed, “Surely she wouldn’t disown you over-”

“You don’t understand,” Amelia began, but Violet cut her off.

“Don’t I? How’s this,” she motioned between them, “worse than what your ma used to do? Is it because I’m a whore, like she was?” Violet scrambled to her feet and began to toe on her shoes, “Or a woman? Or is it the colour of my skin? Or all thr-”

“Violet!” Amelia interjected, grasping Violet’s arm to hold her in place “Last night I thought I’d never see you again! Please.”

The silence felt so heavy in the air, Amelia thought she might suffocate. The beginnings of tears were pricking at her eyes and she blinked hastily to will them away. How foolish she must seem, how naive she must look to someone like Violet.

“I’m sorry,” Violet said quietly, after what felt like an age. Glancing down at the thin fingers wrapped around her wrist, Violet continued, “Margaret found you out, didn’t she?”

Amelia nodded mutely.

Violet finally stepped out of the one shoe she’d managed to get on in her haste to leave, and dropped back onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

Amelia could not bear to let her grip loosen on Violet’s arm. She thought of Noah and the Ark he had built to keep himself safe in the rising flood. Amelia did not want to be swept away in the tide. So she held fast.

“Tell me what happened,” Violet quietly implored, placing her hand on Amelia’s. 

“Last night Mrs. Wells came to us, as my mother was preaching on the street,” Amelia began after a long pause, “She offered us a house to stay in, a place where we could begin again, free of Lydia Quigley. She took me to see it by myself.”

Violet frowned, but if she was thinking of an admonishment, she didn’t say it.

“When we arrived, Mrs. Wells made me a cup of tea. She had put a draught into it, to make me drowsy,” Amelia paused, taking a deep breath, “Her plan was that I’d be taken away in a carriage… And I wouldn’t have returned.”

Eyes wide with horror, Violet immediately pulled Amelia into a tight hug. Amelia slid her hands around Violet’s waist, drawing herself close. Violet’s body was a warm, earthly comfort. She smelled of the same tobacco that lingered in the air of Nancy’s house, mingled with stale perfume and the hint of alcohol. Last night Amelia had thought she might never be able to breathe it in again. 

“Next time I see Margaret Wells, I’m going to pluck out her eyes,” Violet spat, after a beat.

Amelia couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, despite being on the precipice of tears. Nobody had ever offered to commit violence for her before, and she might have been flattered by it if she wasn’t worried Violet might actually do it.

“Please don’t,” Amelia replied with a rueful smile, pulling herself gently from Violet’s arms.

She dropped her eyes to her dress, fiddling with a loose thread she found there. “Mrs. Wells had been offered a deal by the Justice. It was her life for mine,” Amelia glanced away, “She could not make that trade without compunction. She confessed her plan to me before the cup even touched my lips.”

“You truly are blessed,” Violet responded, watching Amelia reverently, “I’ve never seen Margaret Wells have a change of heart before.”

“She examined her conscience and found virtue there,” Amelia nodded, “There is good in her. It may be hard to see, but it is there.”

“You see the good in all of us,” Violet murmured, “Even when we don’t deserve it.”

“You do deserve it,” Amelia frowned, reaching up to place her hand against Violet’s chest, “You have a pure heart.”

“But a filthy mouth,” Violet shot back, smirking as she glanced down at Amelia’s hand on her breast.

“The Lord gives me strength,” Amelia laughed, withdrawing her hand, “to deal with your wickedness, Miss Cross.”

Violet leant forward, pressing her nose against Amelia’s, “My wickedness?” She breathed against Amelia’s lips, “I like that.”

Seizing her newfound bravery, Amelia surged forward and captured Violet’s lips in a desperate kiss. She felt Violet smile against her as she reciprocated, capturing Amelia’s bottom lip with her teeth.

Violet slipped her tongue into Amelia’s mouth as the kiss deepened, and Amelia heard herself moan involuntarily. She’d never heard herself make such a noise, as if she’d been possessed. She’d heard the same sound echo through the walls of Margaret Wells house on her brief excursion there. The night she’d expected a tour of Hell, only to find something more akin to Heaven. She felt Violet’s hands everywhere at once - one at the hem of her skirts, sneaking upwards, the other at her back, fumbling with the laces of her corset. 

Amelia broke away, barely, just enough to catch her breath. Kissing Violet felt like drowning, and she so desperately wanted to throw herself to the sea and let it consume her. She wanted her lungs to fill with salt and brine. She wanted to be dragged into the depths for her sin.

Not now, though. She mustn’t let herself be swept away in Violet’s current.

Amelia gently grasped the hand that was sliding up the inside of her thigh and guided it away. She felt the loss immediately, and it was all she could do just to steady her shaky breathing. Violet paused, her lips stilling against Amelia’s neck.

“What’s wrong?” Violet asked, breath warm against Amelia’s jawline.

“I haven’t...” Amelia took a deep breath as she pulled herself away from the enticement of Violet’s lips, “I haven’t told you the worst of it.”

Violet leant back, lifting her head to eye Amelia carefully.

“I volunteered,” Amelia started, “I volunteered as bait for the snare to catch the Justice.” 

She wasn’t sure what reaction she expected from Violet. To be chastised for her foolishness? 

“Of course you did,” Violet said simply, no hint of judgement in her voice.

“I’d never felt so vulnerable or so afraid in my life,” Amelia continued, voice shaking, “When the Justice led me down the stairs I thought I’d made a huge mistake. I felt like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf.”

Violet reached over and placed her hand over Amelia’s. 

“Every step I took, I wanted to scream. I wanted to call for you. The walk down those stairs felt like it took an eternity, and I kept thinking of how I wished we hadn’t parted so badly. I had an epiphany, just as I thought I might never see you again. A dear friend told me that love is not a sin, and I realised he was right,” The words came out all at once, too quickly for the amount of time she’d spent holding them in, “I do want you, Violet. I wanted you from the second I saw you.”

Without responding, Violet leant forward and kissed Amelia softly, lightly. Far more gentle than the desperate, passionate kiss they’d shared earlier, but a thousand times more meaningful. Violet had a tenderness that few were allowed to see, one that she often masked with sarcasm and quick wit. A necessary defense for women who gave their bodies away easily, but not their hearts.

“It all went terribly wrong,” Amelia murmured, as Violet peppered a few gentle kisses against her nose and cheek, “The Justice was stabbed when he tried to flee in his carriage. There was so much blood…”

“Shh,” Violet breathed, reaching up and cupping Amelia’s face in her hands, “You’re safe now, Amelia. You’re safe.”

They held each other’s gaze for a long moment. Amelia felt as if the whole world did not exist outside the two of them, as if nothing beyond these grimy walls mattered. Nothing felt like it could be more beautiful or astonishing as the deep brown of Violet’s irises, or the slight upturn of her mouth as she smiled, or the creases at the corner of her eyes. She was surely one of God’s most perfect creations.

Amelia pressed her forehead to Violet’s, and let her eyes fall closed.

“Could you hold me?” Amelia breathed, after the silence had stretched on between them for several minutes. 

Violet nodded. Without saying a word, she shifted herself back against the pillows and made room for Amelia beside her. She ran one hand over the rough linen to smooth it down.

Amelia closed the distance between them and nestled herself into Violet’s arms. Violet drew her free hand up to push back an errant strand of mousey hair that had come loose from Amelia’s cap, as Amelia settled her head on Violet’s chest. Amelia drew in a deep breath and exhaled against Violet’s skin. This was her safe harbour. 

The steady, predictable rise and fall of Violet’s chest as she breathed and the drum of her heartbeat in Amelia’s ear lulled her eventually to sleep. Violet, too, drifted off contentedly as the warm afternoon sun began to stream through the open windows.

\-----

Violet stirred at the sound of the clunk of the front door closing and the click of boots ascending the stairs. She barely registered what was happening before Nancy appeared in her doorway with a curse of surprise at the sight before her.

“Not a word,” Violet hissed a warning, “to anyone.”

Nancy opened her mouth to say something, but was silenced by the bang of the front door and the unsteady clack of heels trotting up the steps. Nancy moved to shut the door but before she had the chance, Betsey stumbled onto the landing and straight through the doorway. 

The three of them stared mutely at each other for an uncomfortably long moment.

“Well lick my slit,” Betsey finally exclaimed, “she still a virgin, Vi?”

The sound of Nancy’s barking laugh woke Amelia with a start. She lifted her head from Violet’s shoulder and stared blearily at the two unexpected intruders.

“Out!” Violet ordered, hurling a pillow at Betsey, who was still standing agog in the doorway.

“Oi! It’s my room too!” Betsey slurred, stumbling back the way she came, leaving the smell of alcohol in her wake, “Hope you had a good first time, sweetheart.” Betsey added to Amelia.

“OUT!” Violet shouted.

Nancy gave Betsey one final push in the right direction before she exited as well, closing the door behind her.

“They think-” Amelia began, her face flushed.

“I’d think it, too,” Violet laughed, reaching a hand up to remove the linen cap that was sitting askew on Amelia’s head, “A woman of God in the arms of a Harlot. Scandalous,” she whispered conspiratorially.

Amelia couldn’t help her smile, “Don’t tease.”

“They won’t talk,” Violet assured, then wrinkled her nose, “well, Betsey might, when she’s had a bit of gin in her.”

When a shadow of worry passed over Amelia’s face, Violet added, “I won’t let this get back to your ma, Amelia. I promise.”

Amelia nodded. 

“I should return to her,” she sighed, pushing herself up from the bed. Violet caught her hand and held her in place a moment longer.

“You’ll keep meeting me, then?” Violet asked, with an earnestness that caught Amelia off guard.

Amelia paused, then squeezed Violet’s hand, “Yes. Of course.” With a smile, she leant down and pressed a kiss against Violet’s lips. “There’s nothing I want more in this world.”

Fighting the urge just to slip back into Violet’s arms and stay forever, Amelia reluctantly pulled herself away.

“Go on,” Violet whispered, “Get back to your ma before she sends the watch out looking for you.”

With a rueful smile, Amelia gave Violet’s hand one finale squeeze, then made her way out of the room.

As she stepped onto the landing, Nancy and Betsey watched her from their position at the table, paused midway through their meal of bread and cheese. Nancy nodded in her direction, and the pair shared a look of understanding. She’d seen Nancy there last night, in the shadows, an unexpected guardian angel. She would not forget it.

Betsey lifted the plate and thrust it in her direction, “Stay for a meal with us! You’re skin and bones, aint your ma feeding you?”

“Leave her be, Betsey Fletcher!” Violet ordered, appearing at the doorway, her hand grasping for Nancy’s birch rod.

“Thank you for the offer, but I can’t stay,” Amelia apologised, continuing on her path towards the stairs.

“Come back soon, Violet’s girl!” Betsy called after her, “We’ll feed you up and put some colour in those cheeks!”

She barely finished speaking as Violet grabbed Nancy’s switch and darted towards Betsey with it. Nancy said nothing, but the smirk on her face was irrepressible.

Amelia took the opportunity to hurry off down the stairs while everyone else was distracted. Back to her mother, back to their room that felt like anything but the safe haven that it was promised to be. 

As she crossed back through Covent Garden, through the vibrant streets full of what her mother would call sinners, but who she was coming to see simply as victims of circumstance, Amelia felt more alive and more determined than she ever had been. She would not be parted from Violet, not by her mother and not by vicious rumour.

She was still living, and she would count her blessings for that and for Violet every day.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sapphicxena on tumblr, please hmu if you wanna to shout about violet/amelia with me THANKS.
> 
> Oh, and the title is taken from Cruel World - Active Child which is lowkey my violet/amela song.


End file.
